Learning the Traditions

As a ministry developer, I rely greatly on the energy and needs of the congregations that I serve to determine where I need to devote my energy, what can be a collaborative effort, and what can be delegated to others. As a part-time vicar for two churches—and ¼ time at each—I must do that. For reasons of good self-care and modeling the key principles of the ministry of all baptized—not to mention—pure practicability—it is a necessity.

This being my first Christmas season as their vicars, versus a developer traveling from church to church,  I must be cognizant of the potential burnout for folks as the parishes try to do all that they have always done, particularly during this season of preparation and anticipation. As Advent progresses and we approach Christmas, I am becoming increasingly aware of the myriad of traditions that my two churches have for the Advent and Christmas seasons. I am also discovering that many of these traditions are quite time-intensive to continue.

These traditions are ingrained in the memories and hearts of the people and not up for negotiation. When people walk through the church doors on December 24^th, they better see the same twinkling and inspirationally magical view that they have seen each year this night for many decades.

I agree. It is an inspirational moment for us all, as we finally feel like it is Christmas. And we can even say “Merry Christmas” without the angst of doing so out of season or even being culturally insensitive. It is truly special.

But as I see the spinning wheels and hear the ever-increasing list of decorations and “musts” for each of the churches—each of which has totally different lists—I wonder about whether we are missing the point of the season. The ever-faithful few who do all of the work make sure that Christmas happens exactly as it has for the past 50 years. The same dozens or so of family members who appear for their annual church visit are mesmerized by the beauty and emotion. They ooh and ah, and they leave the area again a few days later, never seeing how beautiful the church and the people are when we are doing church and not a special holiday “performance.”

All of this has me wondering: Do we decorate and do all of these traditional things for ourselves, so we can finally immerse ourselves in the beauty after the frantic race to get it all done? Are we doing this as a gift to those family members and friends who appear for church once or twice a year for Christmas and possibly Easter? More importantly, do we do this to honor, celebrate and remember the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ? Or are we too exhausted and busy to notice or care anymore?

Those are the questions that keep me awake at night and distracted by day. I cannot answer them, as I have my own memories of traditions and customs from the dozens of churches of which I have been a member through the years. These are not my traditions. I am an outsider; even if I love these traditions, they will never be mine, for I lack the lineage to own them. Only my loyal flock can answer these important questions--that much I know. But I wonder whether they ever stop to ask these questions as well, and how they might answer them. The reality is: I will never know.

I suspect that these traditions are important as a means of hospitality to others, as well as an act in reverence to God and Christ. If I were to move away and return again in 20 years, I expect that I would enjoy the same beauty and views that I will see December 24 of this year. And perhaps that is okay. I guess that is all part of the preparation and anticipation. It also is all about our love for our holiday visitors and, more importantly, for God.

Theresa

Are Clergy Scared of Ministry Development?

Last week, I facilitated a workshop entitled “Ministry Development 101” during the diocese’s annual ministry fair. I had three individuals register for the workshop, and we had a wonderful hour discussing ideas and sharing information. I shared experiences from my time as a ministry developer and listened to their stories and their successes. Each of us expressed enthusiasm for what was shared, so I felt that it was a mutually rewarding event.

But as I trundled back to Western Maryland, I reflected further on that “still wonderful” hour. Each of the people who registered was a lay person. I had expected it to be mostly clergy interested in learning how to empower their lay leaders to discern their gifts and then assume responsibilities for assisting (or even spearheading) their churches’ ministries. Instead, I saw three very active lay leaders wanting to learn better how to empower their fellow parishioners. These leaders were not concerned about power or their loss thereof. They were concerned about encouraging and empowering others to help shoulder the load and also grow new or existing ministries. They understood the difference between power and authority. They understood the necessity for empowering others. They understood that gifts are sometimes hidden and need to be disclosed and discerned. They love their churches and want them to blossom and grow, as their gifts and energies allow.

So, why are the clergy not doing the same? Why did no clergy person register for this workshop, despite the large number of individuals attending who were ordained clergy? What are they so scared of losing? If it is power, then “tsk tsk” for them. If they have been burned in the past by the patriarchs and matriarchs of their current and past charges, how do I encourage them to take the risk of trying something new?

Growth requires letting go of control, for we all know that a clasped hand cannot accept and grab hold of something new. How do I encourage my clergy friends to take the risk of letting go so they can take hold of something new that may grow the parish and free the church to be a church of the people, not a church centered around them? I guess this is another one of my postings that will have to close with unanswered questions—unanswered questions for further pondering later.

Theresa

Bread of Life in the Midst of Vulnerability and Self-Doubts

We now are in the midst of a series of lectionary readings that dwell on the “bread of life” imagery found in the Gospel of John. Overlapping scripture passages are found in the selected readings, yet we also move forward from physical hunger in the story of the feeding of the 5,000 to spiritual feeding as in the “bread of life” imagery.

All this in the midst of being a ministry developer working with multiple churches and thus dealing with multiple deaths, losses, and changes as the needs cross church and community boundaries. As I call one parishioner to offer a visit and the sharing of the Holy meal, I learn of still another tragedy impacting an additional parishioner. I turn on the television for my weekly one-hour fix with a soon-to-end television series, only to experience another death. The fact that the television program is not reality makes no difference; I still feel the heart pangs of loss.

I live and work and serve within the midst of heartbreak and challenges. I am to be the strong calming influence for those around me. I listen to another tearful story. I pray for wholeness of body and spirit. I seek the strength to listen, be, and support yet another person in need—a person who for that moment needs undivided focus on his or her needs, not the needs of others across the other church communities that I serve.

I encourage parishioners to take care of self; yet, I admit that I struggle to practice what I preach. How do I explain to one church community my need for self care when the community sees only a thin slice of who I am and what I do. They see me only when I am serving them. Are they jealous when I am seen serving others or, even carving out time for myself? What runs through their minds when I have a conflict between my multiple charges and have to “choose” one over the other, even if I made the other commitment first?

All of these are challenges to be sure. I raise them here as part of the sharing of my “diary,” with great risk I know. I am just as vulnerable as each of the persons and communities that I serve. I cry inside when they are crying. I lose sleep wondering how to be a better shepherd on our joint pilgrimage journey; I wonder if I am doing it okay. I am sure that the answers to that last question are as varied as there are people answering.

So I guess it all comes down to this: What does Jesus want? And where that answer is unclear, am I listening for the guidance that I need to hear? I pray that “yes, I am.” I cannot be all things to all people, but I certainly can look to God and let God provide the tools to do that which is life giving and offer the companioning as we seek the “bread of life” that Jesus promises. I must let go; I must let God. Perhaps revealing my vulnerability is not such a bad thing after all.

Theresa

Autumn Reflections

I am blessed to live and work in the mountains of Maryland, where fall means brilliantly colored trees, followed by a flurry of raking as the leaves fall from the trees, decorating the yards and fields.  And all while dealing with the ever-growing grass that seems to peek out between the colored leaves that dot my yard. I am graced with a full palette of color and textures of moist grass and drying leaves as I travel the roads of western Maryland.

It also is a time when activity seems to peak within the churches and communities. Fall festivals attract people from far and near, bringing visitors to the region, competing for hotels and restaurants with the college students and their alums. Churches compete with each other with harvest dinners of turkey and ham, accompanied by homemade cakes and pies. Fresh apple butter smeared on homemade bread or biscuits is a treat that I particularly enjoy this time of year.

Church doors and windows close to keep out the chill, and church attendance increases as people return to school and work. Each week is like a homecoming as people catch up with each other and what all they have been doing the past few months.

The musty smell of furnaces being lit to take away the evening chill remind us that winter weather is swiftly approaching. The so-called lazy days of summer are gone, and the days when we wall ourselves up inside are not yet upon us. We approach our lives as if this were our last chance for community before the uncertainty of bad weather haunts us once again.

My question is: Where do people find this new-found energy? As a missioner and ministry developer, I seem to be out of step with everyone else. I love the smells and tastes of autumn, but I frankly find that the life of a ministry developer is quite exhausting this time of year. Church activities are at a high, and I am still recovering from the task of filling in for all of the vacationing clergy over the past three months. I hate cold weather, so I certainly don’t look forward to that, but I find myself wistful for the slower pace of winter (other than Advent and Christmas and Lent, of course!).

Hmmm. Perhaps it just means that I have my work cut out for me—ministry development in sync with the development and training of new ministers! I think I finally got it—so watch out folks! This ministry developer is now on the prowl to deputize more ministers to help with this wonderful task of doing church in Western Maryland. Don’t say I did not warn you!

Theresa